


Come Into My Parlor

by riventhorn



Series: Spider Spidey [1]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bondage, M/M, Peter is more like a spider, spider mating habits, weapons in the bedroom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 16:36:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2628719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riventhorn/pseuds/riventhorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some spiders kill and eat their mates after fertilization. Wade thinks that this has the potential for some awesome, kinky times in Peter's bedroom, er, web. Because life-threatening danger is a total turn on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Into My Parlor

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU in that Peter has more spider-like habits than just being able to shoot webs and climb up walls. All of my knowledge of Deadpool is gleaned from Spideypool fic.

Wade hummed to himself as he crept down the alleyway. “The itsy-bitsy spider came down the water spout…down came the rain and—”

**[“The Spider and the Fly” really seems more accurate in this situation]**

[ _No way we’re a fly! Maggots. Ugh._ ]

“Gross,” Wade agreed. “But, yeah: ‘The way into his parlor is up a winding stair.’ What floor does Petey live on? The twentieth or something?”

**[‘For who goes up his winding stair can ne’er come down again.’ That’s the relevant part here.]**

“That’s what we’ve got this for,” Wade said, patting the gun at his hip. “And these.” He touched the hilts of his katana, slung on his back. 

[ _And the knife in your boot! The one that doubles as a toothpick and is totally AWESOME._ ]

**[I’m just saying—post-orgasm? Are we really going to be in any kind of shape to take him on?]**

“Point,” Wade mused. “But that tight ass—totally worth the risk.”

[ _And we get turned on by danger like whoa!_ ]

Wade grinned. Oh, yeah. Ever since he’d learned that a lot of female spiders ate the male spider after mating, his desire to get in Spidey’s tight little suit had increased like four hundred percent or something. Of course, he didn’t know for sure that Peter harbored such instincts, but everyone knew that some weird shit went on in that apartment of his. 

**[He says they’re science experiments.]**

They all laughed at that. 

[ _Yeah, right!_ ]

“Nice try, baby boy.” What happened to the criminals who just kind of disappeared for a few days and then reappeared at the police station, dazed and totally confused about where they had been? Some of them still had cobwebs stuck in their hair.

If Peter was in the habit of carrying off criminals and sticking them in a cocoon for a few days, he might also indulge in a little cannibalism after sex. “What a rush,” Wade whispered. Getting off with the knowledge that you were going to be a snack unless you were faster and stronger. 

And if he wasn’t—well, he’d regenerate, although he hadn’t thought too much on the specifics of how _that_ would work because…

**[Gross.]**

[ _Think I’m gonna be sick…_ ]

Still. Peter was the kind of guy who’d worry about something like that. His baby boy didn’t like hurting people. He probably denied himself—couldn’t be intimate—couldn’t have sex. But with Wade, he wouldn’t have to worry. 

[ _It’s a win-win!_ ]

Yep. It might take a little to convince Peter of that, judging by the way he’d shoved Wade away when they started getting hot and heavy on the rooftops last night, mumbled something about how he couldn’t do this, and fled. 

**[But we’re persuasive. And have no compunctions about breaking into his house.]**

When he got to Peter’s, he didn’t bother with the front door. He’d done some reading, and he knew about how you had to be careful approaching a spider when you were courting it, tapping its web in a pattern that would signal you were a spider Casanova, all ready for some sweet loving as opposed to a tasty morsel. So Wade went over the roof and slipped right in the bedroom window. 

The streetlamps provided enough light so that it wasn’t pitch dark, but it still took his eyes a few seconds to adjust. But once they did…

Whoa. 

There was webbing all over the place. It started out wider and thinner by the door but then got denser and narrower, funneling into one corner. Wade thought that he could see a darker shape over there, curled into a ball. 

Holding his breath, he reached out and twanged one of the threads. The vibration traveled through the web, rippling towards the center.

With startling speed, the ball uncurled, sprouting two legs and two arms. Peter scuttled up the wall and onto the ceiling before freezing, uncertain what had awoken him.

Wade twanged another thread and then another. 

“Deadpool?” Peter whispered. “Is that you, Wade?”

[ _He remembers our name! It’s destiny!_ ]

“Yep. I’m right here, baby boy.” He grabbed one of the thicker threads and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. 

“W-what are you doing?” Peter asked, his voice quavering.

“Picking up where we left off. It’s not polite to cut and run after a kiss like that.” He flicked two threads in quick succession.

A gasp and a low, bitten-off moan came from the corner. 

"Don't _do_ that!" Peter exclaimed. “Wade—it’s dangerous—I can’t—”

“Come on, baby boy.” Wade took a careful step into the web, its sticky, springy filaments bending under his weight. “You think I can’t handle myself?”

“Is that a threat?” Peter asked in a breathy voice that sounded far more turned on than scared.

“A promise.” Wade unsheathed the katana and laid them down, followed by the gun. “See? I’ll even make it a fair fight.” He crept a few steps closer. 

[ _You forgot the knife!_ ]

“It’s a secret. Shhhh.”

“What’s a secret?” Peter asked. He had dropped down from the ceiling but was still pressed into the corner, his grey sweats slung low on his hips, eyes fixed on Wade.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be one. Duh.” Very slowly, he reached out and ran his gloved finger along the arch of Peter’s bare foot. 

“Oh, God.” Peter’s head thunked against the wall. “For the record, this is a really, really bad idea.”

**[Our spider doth protest too much.]**

Wade’s hand traveled up Peter’s leg. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby boy,” he whispered. 

The next second, his wrist was yanked backwards, webbing spiraling around his arm and sticking him to the web. Peter got his other arm, too, before he could react and then jumped on him. His brown hair was mussed, and in other circumstances, Wade might have called him adorable. But there was a gleam in his eyes, like Wade really was a fat, juicy fly that shifted things from ‘adorable’ to ‘freaky and hot.’

“You came here,” Peter whispered, staring into his eyes. “You walked right into my web. So we do things _my_ way.”

“Holy shit, yes,” Wade breathed, fervent, as Peter rolled up his mask just a little and licked a wet stripe right across his jugular. 

Pinioned in the web, Wade could only lie there as Peter proceeded to undress him, ripping through the spandex whenever it refused to cooperate. He left Wade’s boots on, which was good because taking them off would kind of ruin Plan B. 

Then Peter kicked his sweatpants away, Wade hungrily eyeing his erect cock. His own was leaking onto his stomach, and he had a sudden, vivid fantasy of Peter using the webbing to bind his cock and balls so he could play with him the rest of the night. 

[ _If we make it out of here alive, we are so doing that next time!_ ]

**[Next time? Getting a little overconfident, aren’t we?]**

Ignoring that last, Wade arched up his hips. “Please, Petey. Come on, come on…”

“Yeah. I know, I know,” Peter muttered, breathing hard, and then all that glorious muscle and bare skin was pressing against Wade. Peter started rutting against him, their cocks sliding against each other.

Groaning, Wade fought the webbing, wanting to grab, to hold, but it was too strong to break. 

“Oh, fuck,” Peter gasped, hiding his face against Wade’s shoulder for a moment, his body trembling. Wade moved his own hips, getting one leg around Peter’s hips, right under that sweet ass. 

Hesitant fingers touched his mask. “Just—enough for your mouth?” Peter asked softly.

Wade swallowed and nodded. 

Peter pushed it up and then climbed up his body, straddling his shoulders. His cock bobbed temptingly. 

“Give it here, Petey,” Wade said hoarsely, wetting his lips. 

Peter drew in a breath and then fed his cock into Wade’s mouth. Wade could see the muscles in his abs and thighs tightening as he fought not to just shove it in all the way. He slurped at the tip, unable to do much flat on his back without his hands. Peter sank down further, then a little further, head hanging, his own hands gripping the web. He started thrusting, on the edge between control and completely losing it.

Spit smeared across his chin, and Wade whined, wriggling his hips, so hard he thought he might spontaneously combust. The boxes were jibbering and moaning, a cacophony rattling around in his skull. 

With a gasp, Peter suddenly pulled away. “I’m gonna—oh, _shit_.” He tore at the webbing around Wade’s wrists, freeing him, and then slid down his body, closing his hand around both their cocks. He pumped them, head thrown back and eyes closed. Wade dug his fingers into Peter’s thighs, and then reached back to squeeze his ass. 

He came first, groaning low in his chest and spattering come over Peter’s fist. Peter followed a few seconds later. He slumped forward, forehead resting on Wade’s chest. 

And then—well, then things got a little wild. 

Wade realized that Peter was shivering and then he raised his head. The look in his eyes—he was totally gone.

[ _Danger, Will Robinson!_ ]

“No, shit!” Wade yelped, and he twisted to the side just before Peter could get a grip on his wrists again. 

A flurry of limbs, sticky webbing—

**[Ugh. I think some just got in our _ear_.]**

—and blocked punches followed. And then Wade got the knife out of his boot, flipped Peter under him, and pressed it to his neck. Peter went limp.

“Come back to me, baby boy,” Wade crooned, pushing back his sweaty hair and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

He felt it when Peter came back to himself, the sudden tenseness in his body, the way he turned his head to the side on a choked breath.

“Oh, God, Wade. I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

“Sorry? Why are you sorry? That was fucking hot.” Wade put the knife away and humped Peter’s hip. He was still soft, but it wouldn’t take long, not after that adrenaline rush. 

“Off, off, no more,” Peter said, batting at him half-heartedly. "It figures you'd get turned on by this," he added, but then he pressed a quick, shy kiss on Wade's mouth, and Wade could see he was smiling. 

“It’s…instinct, I guess,” Peter said after a moment. 

“I gotcha. Like if I get within a fifty yard radius of a Mexican restaurant, I just _have_ to go inside. Same thing.”

Peter snorted. “Right. Exactly.”

“Got any beer or soda?” Wade asked, hating to break the moment, but his mouth felt like the Sahara. “That kind of took it out of me.”

“Kitchen,” Peter mumbled, yawning and waving down the hallway.

Getting out of the web was kind of tricky, and Wade ended up flat on his ass on the floor. Grumbling, he limped down the hall, Peter chuckling behind him. 

“So,” Wade said when he had returned with a beer for him and a soda for Peter, “that big white cocoon hanging by the fridge…?”

“Oh.” Peter sounded embarrassed. “A burglar I caught this afternoon. I…can’t help it sometimes. But I’ve never _eaten_ anyone,” he added earnestly. “After a few days, I can manage to let them go.” He paused. “Well, there was that lizard I found on the fire escape that one time. But in my defense, I’ve had really bad experiences with their species. And I didn’t have any money for takeout.” 

Wade ruffled his hair. “Instinct.”

“Yeah.” Peter leaned against his shoulder. “Instinct.”


End file.
